


Barreling Towards Something New

by santanico



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: F/F, F/M, Face-Sitting, Multi, Oral Sex, Polyamory, Threesome - F/F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-08
Updated: 2015-05-08
Packaged: 2018-03-29 12:58:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3897220
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/santanico/pseuds/santanico
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The King and Queen each know the other has a mistress, and they've accepted that. Finding out that it's the same woman changes things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Barreling Towards Something New

**Author's Note:**

> For [this prompt](http://dragonage-kink.livejournal.com/11571.html?thread=45890099#t45890099) that got a little out of hand.

The castle is quiet most of the time – at least for the moment. The war is over; the darkspawn are, for the most part, gone. There are steps to be taken, peace talks to be made, but Alistair and Anora are good at what they do and things are…easy.

Easier than Anora ever expected.

Alistair isn’t the best king in the world, but he cares as deeply about his people as Cailan ever did and he’s stronger than Cailan – maybe the Grey Warden blood makes him that way – and more determined.

Still naïve, but less stupid. Fighting an Archdemon does that, Anora supposes.

“You’re certain he doesn’t know?”

She grazes her fingers along Cousland’s hand. Cousland glances at her, gives a short laugh, and nods. “I’m certain, my Lady.”

Anora rolls her eyes. “I wish you wouldn’t call me that,” she says, reaching up to brush her hands through Cousland’s loose hair. “I’ve known you since you were a child.”

Cousland laughs again. “You’re a queen.”

“You’re nobility. If you were a man…”

“Don’t say it,” Cousland whispers. Her voice is sharp.

“You know Alistair better than I do,” Anora says, quickly shifting the topic. Cousland looks relieved and shifts in her seat. “How is he?”

Cousland presses her lips together and blinks a few times. “He is well, Anora.” Cousland leans closer and presses a kiss to Anora’s lips. She smiles and kisses her back.

She knows Alistair has another woman; it doesn’t feel wrong, like this.

Cousland touches her cheek.

A dream come true.

-

Cousland and Alistair step into the dining room together, talking and laughing. Anora watches them as the servants move around the table swiftly, serving dinner. She isn’t sure what stirs under her heart; is she jealous? It seems – preposterous. But it’s more than just that Cousland is so close with the King; clearly they became good friends, and Anora can’t blame them.

What is it Alistair had joked about when they had officially been married? Blights bringing people together? He said it under his breath, and smiled, and she laughed despite herself, despite her sadness.

She misses her father.

Cousland settles at the middle of the table, exactly two seats away from both Alistair and Anora. She smiles at them both.

Alistair sleeps in her bed that night, and Anora is grateful. Cousland had been indisposed for a week now, something she referred to as nightly business with a shake of her head. Alistair is warm and he kisses her softly. He doesn’t have to do that. She knows they will need to produce an heir. The thought of it makes her stomach coil. But sometimes Alistair touches her waist and it’s new and her breathing quickens and that’s always when he stops.

She isn’t afraid, but she isn’t ready, either.

She decides to talk to Cousland about it when she returns home in the morning.

-

“Is it strange, knowing we’ll have children?”

Cousland looks at her and Anora can’t perceive what she’s thinking.

“Anora…”

“You _never_ call me by my name.”

“Queen…Are you still ‘Mac Tir’? Or are you ‘Anora Theirin’ now? I’m not sure. Never heard anyone refer to you like that.”

Anora shrugs.

Cousland leans in and kisses her, wrapping her arms around Anora’s shoulders. She’s warm, out of armor, so vulnerable for a woman who’s seen so much war. 

“Anora,” Cousland murmurs, pressing her lips to Anora’s neck. “Anora, Anora, Anora.”

-

As Anora shuts the door, all she can thinks is _It could have been worse._

She hurries down the hall, picking up her skirts so they don’t drag her down. Outside, outside. Then she can breathe, maybe call some guards to bring her a horse and she can be gone for a few days, a week, and process.

She leaves out the kitchen door, the cooks watching her frantic movements. It’d be humiliating to be seen like this, but everything is too much. Too much noise, too much pounding in her chest.

“Lady,” shouts one of the guards when she makes it outside. “King Alistair was looking for you.”

“Maker’s breath,” she shouts, shaking her head. She blinks against the tears, and she can tell her braids are getting loose. “Please, please tell him I’ve retired to my room.”

“You…want me to lie to the king?”

“ _Please_ ,” she says, knowing he won’t. The guard frowns. “Please.”

He turns on his heel and she turns around as well, walking towards one of the benches in the courtyard before collapsing down on it. She can feel her cheeks prickling, her eyes watering, and she wipes the tears away on her wrist.

Stupid reason to cry. She isn’t even sure why she’s crying. She isn’t angry, or sad, or betrayed. Just confused. Frustrated.

She reaches up a hand to touch her braids. Yes, one is just about to fall out. She sighs heavily.

“Anora.”

When she looks up, it’s Cousland.

Cousland shifts from foot to foot, biting her lip and averting her eyes.

“The guard told _you_?”

Cousland blinks then shakes her head. “No, I just knew you’d be here.”

Anora laughs. “I’d be gone if I thought it’d be possible.”

Alistair comes out of the kitchen door as Anora lets out a breath and Cousland steps forward.

“I – sorry, sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Anora shakes her head. “Might as well do this now.”

“Anora…” Cousland drops to her knees in front of Anora, resting her hands on Anora’s knees. Anora looks at her, a face all too familiar and still comforting. Her chest feels warm, and there’s a shift there that she isn't sure she's ready to admit to. She picks up her hands and cups Cousland’s face. “I didn’t – I didn’t think it would…”

“Did you think one of us would give up?” Anora murmurs. Cousland’s face flushes and she looks away, starting to stammer. “I’m not going to give up.”

Alistair clears his throat. “We’re not going to fight, Anora.”

She looks at him, narrowing her eyes. He doesn’t back down. “What do you suggest, then?”

“Tell me, Anora,” Cousland says, “After all this time…do you feel nothing for your King?”

“I…” She looks at Alistair. His eyes are steely, quiet. He’s changed. No bumbling fool. Someone with strong hands, calloused like hers. A face well-loved by the people. She remembers his breath against her ear. She remembers lying in bed when Cousland couldn’t be there, wishing Alistair were there. She had thought of him touching her on nights she was alone, thought of his hands and his mouth in ways she never wanted to speak of.

“Oh,” she murmurs, realizing the truth of Cousland's random absences. “Did you lie? Were you with Alistair?”

Cousland hesitates. “Not always.”

Anora sighs. “I quite understand. I need…time.”

She pushes herself to her feet, patting down her dress. Cousland steps back, but away from the both of them, her eyes focused but strained.

The next four nights at dinner, Cousland isn’t there.

-

“I didn’t know, either.”

Anora looks up from her book and frowns.

“Alistair.”

“Come on, Anora.”

“Come on, what?”

“Is it jealousy? She meant you no harm. She didn’t want to get either of us involved. Imagine my surprise when she stammered through her explanation that the two of you had been lovers since before you were Queen. Off and on, at least.” He smiles and Anora shakes her head.

“I’m angry at you,” she snaps. “And her. But not for the reasons I thought.”

“Then what are your reasons?”

“Come to bed, Alistair.”

He scowls. “Now you think I’m going to just roll over and let you ignore my questions?”

“I’m not ignoring them. Just come to bed.”

He doesn’t argue further, undressing down into a tunic and loose pants. She appreciates him like this, the muscle under his shirt less obvious, his shoulders not seeming so large. He crawls onto the bed and settles down next to her, close enough that she can detect his warmth.

“You have proven yourself. I loved Cailan. I don’t love you, but I love the Hero of Ferelden, I love _her_.” Anora blinks and looks away from Alistair’s prying gaze. “Please. Please don’t look at me like that.”

“I’m sorry.” He looks at his hands in his lap instead, and stays quiet. She can appreciate that about him as well. He listens perfectly, when he really wants to.

“Does she love you, Alistair? Does she call you King, does she call you 'your majesty'? She still calls me Lady Anora."

“Anora, you don’t…you don’t have to compromise.”

She turns her head to look at him, but Alistair’s eyes are closed. She cups his cheek, turns his head towards her and he opens his eyes, looks at her with parted lips. She kisses him then, thinks maybe that will be enough, and it almost is.

If she wants it, she’ll have it.

She’s still a queen, after all.

-

“I don’t deserve this,” Cousland says, her voice shaking.

Anora beckons her forward and Cousland moves immediately, drawn into Anora’s arms. It’s warm, and so is the kiss. Alistair’s breathing comes out hard after a moment, and Anora doesn’t blame him because she’s red in the ears, wanting everything and nothing at all.

Cousland is grateful, her hands fast but careless, fumbling with the laces on Anora’s dress. “Please, please,” she murmurs, kissing the curve of Anora’s breast, gripping her waist. And the name, _Alistair_ , breathed from Cousland lips before she gently starts to suck on Anora’s collarbone –

Anora squeezes her eyes shut as Alistair’s hands hike her skirts up. He had never touched her before, not like this, and now he’s rubbing a his fingers against her smallclothes and she starts to shake her head, gasping out, “No, to the bed, now.”

The Wardens are even better at following orders than she thought. Cousland lifts Anora by her thighs, hoisting her up so Anora has to wrap her arms around Cousland's shoulders to stay steady, and Alistair moves around them somehow before the two women drop on the bed. Cousland kisses Anora with something that must be newfound, an extraordinary passion that makes Anora twitch and write beneath her. She doesn’t know what she wants, what to do, and then Cousland is sitting up, straddling Anora’s waist, and waving Alistair onto the bed.

“I want this to be careful,” she says as Anora pushes a wisp of hair from her face. “Anora, will you do me the honor of getting on top of me?”

Alistair huffs out a breath and Anora doesn’t hesitate, switching their positions quickly with the swing of her hips. Cousland may be muscular, but she’s still small in stature and she laughs as she lands on the pillow.

“Alistair,” Cousland says, her voice raw. “You’re going to fuck me.”

“Maker’s…” He trails off and then curses. “Of course.”

“Anora, please, let me taste you.”

Anora doesn’t think of it for a second longer as Cousland’s hands tug her forward by her thighs. Anora adjusts herself, tugging off her smallclothes and pulling up her skirt before she settles around Cousland’s shoulders.

Cousland nods and Anora feels the bed shift as Alistair moves towards Cousland. Anora barely thinks about him, though there’s something exciting about his presence as well, as she slides forward. She’s careful to keep her skirts high enough and not to get too close, but then she feels Cousland’s tongue on her cunt and she gasps and spasms. The touch is sudden and followed by a soft breath, and she drops her hips a little closer so Cousland’s lips can stretch around her clit.

Anora knows the exact moment that Alistair thrusts into Cousland by the sound of their simultaneous moans. It vibrates through her as well, and her thighs shake as she rocks her hips. Cousland’s tongue is warm and insistent, and Cousland’s hands on her hips similarly keep everything in place. Alistair must be good at this because Cousland’s patterns start to hesitate and her moans grow more obvious. Anora wonders if she’ll have a chance to be sprawled on this bed like Cousland is, though there’s something particularly exciting about a King and Queen on top of their Warden mistress together.

Not that two Wardens…

She shudders at the thought, tangling her fingers in Cousland’s hair. Another moan, tongue still rubbing her clit, sliding inside, tingling lips and mouth and Alistair’s voice, too. He’s close to her, he must be leaning over Cousland’s body because his forehead grazes her shoulder and he groans, whispering " _Anora_ ," in such a way –

Everything is too hot, and she grinds her hips harder than she means to, taking as much of Cousland’s mouth as she possibly can. Cousland's tongue moves faster and harder and Anora throws back her head as her orgasm hits, leaving her shaking and begging towards the ceiling. She continues to roll her hips as Cousland's mouth slows to simple strokes of her tongue before Anora finally lifts her skirts more fully again and shifts off of Cousland's face.

“Alistair, please,” Cousland moans, and when Anora looks at her Cousland’s lips are shiny and a sweet shade of dark pink. She watches them together, Cousland wrapping her arms around Alistair’s shoulders and Alistair thrusting into her fast and hard, and the stirring returns, more subdued now. Hearing both their moans combined is terrifying, but she can’t look away.

Alistair kisses Cousland, sloppy and quick, and the gasps and heavy breaths turn to shouts of release as Anora looks on. Cousland comes first, from the way her body twists and the whimpers that escape her. Alistair kisses her through it, each thrust into her faster for a moment before he stops, filling her.

Her first thought is _Beautiful_ and she turns her head before Alistair rolls off of Cousland and collapses onto the bed beside her.

“Interesting,” she hears Cousland murmur. “And neither of you will look at each other.”

“I…” Anora turns to glower at Cousland and notices Alistair’s annoyed look too. Their gazes catch each other and she laughs, sitting up and reaching out to tug him closer to her.

They kiss, and she can taste Cousland still on his tongue. It feels good, right, and she only breaks the kiss because she feels guilty leaning over Cousland’s naked chest to do it.

“No, go right on, don’t let me interrupt,” Cousland says quietly, smiling between them. Alistair clears his throat and glances away again.

Anora starts to unlace her dress, uncomfortable in the heat of it. “Can it…be like this?” she wonders out loud, glancing at the two of them before turning back to fiddle at her dress. Alistair has settled down, arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Cousland hums and sits up, and Anora notices that she’s well and truly naked for the first time. So is Alistair. Makes sense, but she's still surprised.

She tries to remember when that happened, but all that arises are blanks. She shakes her head.

“Can the two of you handle having only _one_ mistress?” Cousland says, then laughs as they both glare at her. “Bad joke, I’m sorry.” Then she pauses. “I really am. I never meant…”

Alistair quiets her with a kiss, and Anora initially feels dark heat before it gets bright.

“It makes things…easier,” Alistair admits, chancing a look at Anora.

She nods. “I would be lying if I said…Alistair.” She stares at him. “I could learn to love you, too.”

He smiles at her.

Dysfunctional, but healing.

Anora can be happy like this.


End file.
